Go on a night dive with Manta Rays in Hawaii? Check.

My mantra about coexisting peacefully with sea creatures goes like this: “I do not look like food to anything underwater. I do not look like food to anything underwater.” Comforting because it’s true. Except that the day before this dive I was bitten by a Humuhumunukunuku’puaa, which is Hawaii’s national fish. It super-bit me and made me bleed, presumably because I was hanging out over its turf. Sorry Humuhumunukunuku’puaa, my bad. And thank you for the reminder that sometimes animals bite you precisely because they don’t recognize you. Thank you for that reminder mere hours before I got in the water with fish the size of houses:

The dive did not go as expected.

I got open-water certified about eight months ago for my birthday, but I haven’t been diving since, so I was eager to get back in the water. A while ago, Liz Stanley posted about her night dive with Manta Rays in Hawaii, and I added it to my Life List without knowing much about it. I booked the dive, and then watched the creepy Skeletor video.

So I was a little hesitant, but by the time I got on the boat I was downright uneasy. Eight months between dives is a long time for a newbie. I didn’t remember much about my equipment, and I was going by myself, so I wouldn’t know my dive buddy. Plus, I’d never been on a night dive, but I’d heard there’s darkness involved. The only thing more vast than the sea is darkness. Everyone knows monsters like to hang out in the dark and in the sea. That’s Monsters 101.

The boat ride was gorgeous and we waited aboard for sunset. We were given dive lights, and told that we would sit on the bottom shining our lights upward, while snorkelers floated above shining their lights down. The mantas swim in large looping arcs in the space between, doing backflips to scoop up the plankton that’s attracted to all that light.

I was introduced to my dive partner, Chris, a few minutes before we jumped in the water. She was an affable Australian, and because I find Australians and their mortality-awareness comforting, I took this as an auspicious sign.

Then the wind picked up.

The water was bashing against the shore and shooting spray into the air when the dive master lined us up. We jumped in to the choppy water, and suffice it to say I was not chill. I was unsure of myself already, and the rough water only made me more anxious. There was a slight drag on my air line, which made my panicky breaths more arduous, and surprise! It was dark.

There was a strong current underwater that I’d never experienced before, sort of like swimming upstream in a river. When we got down to the bottom, we were supposed to settle into a seated position to shine our lights upward, but the current made it tough to stay in one place. The dive master showed us how to hug a rock underwater, but several of us weren’t strong enough to hold on.

I was freaked out, getting knocked around by the current, battling to find a means of staying put without cutting my hands on the rock or bashing my tank into the reef. At one point the dive master approached me a wrote on his slate, “Lay down better.” Pro tip, dive master. I refrained from flashing him the most unequivocal of hand signals. Mostly because I was using my hands to hold on to a rock under which something bitey was surely sequestered.

In the midst of all the struggling, I managed to look up a few times to see the rays swooping through beams of light and the bubbles floating up from our respirators. Those few moments were breathtaking — so alien and peaceful. But after a few minutes the dive master signaled that we should surface because the situation underwater was too rough. He apologized for not being better able to control the sea, then offered us a chance to snorkel, because at this point the surface had calmed.

We climbed back in, and that was when everything went magic. The water was glowing from all the light, and the Mantas were huge swooping shadows cutting through the beams. One of the rays started backflipping, circling closer to me each time he looped upward. I was sure he would touch me, I could feel the water washing against me from his wings and I couldn’t stop laughing.

I laughed every time he approached, and my mask would fill with water. I’d clear the mask just as he was looping up again, and then I’d laugh and my mask would fill.

Gorgeous. Do this, my friends. It will make you happy.

Lucy Keeps Pulling the Football Away

Last night I knocked over a parked motorcycle with my car. As I left a note, I noticed gas was pouring out onto the street. Came upstairs to open a package containing a vintage tea set I ordered as a birthday gift for a girlfriend, and boom.

This morning, fresh start. I spilled an entire cup of hot tea into my lap while I was driving. Parked at a meter in front of the office, tied a sweater around my waist. I hurried in for a meeting, halfway through which I realized I’d forgotten to plug the meter. Ran back to my car, just as the meter maid was printing a ticket.

What’s going right for you today?

Choose


(Graphic from the July 2012 edition of O Magazine. Are you the graphic artist? Please let me know in comments, so I can link to you.)

I admire decisive people. One of the surest ways to make myself insane is by wringing my hands over opportunity cost. That passage from The Bell Jar haunts:

“I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn’t quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn’t make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.”

But there’s good advice in this month’s Martha Beck column ( July 2012, O Magazine), “Get Unstuck: How to Make the Right Decision Every Time.” My favorite bits:

When you trade indecision for choice, you’ll be rewarded with either success or education.

“Indecision brings its own delays, and days are lost lamenting over lost days.” -Goethe

The body truth goes ahead of the mind lie.

That last part is especially true for me. My body has very strong, sometimes visible reactions when I’m making a choice that goes against my gut. That used to embarrass me, but now I feel lucky to have such a strong internal compass.

What about you, do you guys ever have trouble making decisions? How do you make important choices versus little ones?

Weekend Soundtrack: Dolores Park Summer Mix

We’re finally back at home and staying put so we have time to catch up with all the San Francisco friends. (I miss your faces.) Lots of birthday barbecues, lazy times in the park, and maybe a hike out to the beach. It’s finally starting to feel like summer.

When the weather is good in SF, Dolores Park is sort of like our town square. Here’s what we’re listening to over beers on the picnic blanket:

Dolores Park Summer Mix on Spotify
Dolores Park Summer Mix on Rdio

Polite Dance Song, The Bird and the Bee
Hurry On Now, Alice Russell
Heart Skipped A Beat, The xx
Sea Of Love, Cat Power
Easy To Love (Bonus Track), The Jezebels
Someone To Love, Hey Marseilles
Just Like Heaven, The Cure
Don’t Move, Phantogram
Tighten Up, The Black Keys
F-cking Boyfriend [Explicit], the bird and the bee
<a href="The Mermaid ParadeThe Mermaid Parade, Phosphorescent
Cherry Bomb, The Runaways
Swoon, Big Deal
Santa Fe, Beirut
Trap Doors, Broken Bells
When I Drink, The Avett Brothers
Don’t Bother Me, The Blakes
Zebra, Beach House
Get Up Offa That Thing, James Brown
Little Talks, Of Monsters and Men

It’s gorgeous out, so my fingers are crossed for oysters on the water tonight. We so fancy.

What are you guys up to this weekend?

Small Differences Between Hawaii and Home

Instead of taco trucks, they have shrimp trucks.

There are chickens everywhere. In parking lots, on the road, walking through your yard.

Instead of waving as a “thank you” in traffic, locals throw you a Shaka.

The birds and flowers are more colorful.

Leaves are bigger.

You can get candy leis at the bodegas.

There are (terrible) coconut M&Ms with little beach umbrellas printed on, and you can get Hershey’s Kisses with Macadamia nuts inside.

The fruit stands have bags of pre-cut fruit on ice.

Garbage cans are less accessible to wildlife.

People worry less about locking their cars.

Your phone maps look different.

You can get Spam anywhere.

The view from the 7-11 is better.

Dramatically better.

On Your Mark, Get Set…

This post is sponsored by Merrell.

This is me running with my friend Amy. Because, and I never thought I’d type this, running is a thing I’m starting to do. Despite my jock-ular appearance here, I’m doing this furtively. I don’t post my distances on the various social networks, I don’t know my personal best, I avert my eyes when someone passes on the park path.

Someday I’ll raise my chin in smug salute to my fellow marathoners. For now, I’m focused on getting my laces double tied and finding a sports bra that takes all the bounce out of my step.

Those of you who’ve been reading for a while might remember my historical disinterest in exercise. It went a little something like this:

Until the last six months or so, I’ve never understood people who like the gym. I mean I thought they were maybe a different species, in that I could never mate with one. When my weight, and later my health, made it necessary for me to get off the couch, I just… didn’t want to. It ran counter to my self image.

In the last year, I’ve been revisiting a lot of assumptions I’ve made about myself. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still attracted to myopic men with academic bodies, but lately, I’ve been more open to experiences that conflict with my self image. And athletically, my sense-of-self has always been “picked last at kickball.”

This year, I’d like to be done with that. I’d like to stop thinking of myself as weak, uncoordinated, fundamentally ill-equipped to move through space.

I used to believe athleticism was innate, but now I realize you’re not born sporty any more than you’re born a traveler. It’s an action — you put on your shoes, you get on the plane.

More than anything, I just want to be strong. I want to be able to move furniture by myself, to open the stupid jar. So once in a while I wake up, I put on my sneakers, and I move. And if you ask me to play kickball, I’ll consider it.

But dodgeball? Don’t push me.

http://thirdparty.fmpub.net/placement/501166?fleur_de_sel=%5Btimestamp%5D

Weekend Soundtrack: Hawaiian Punch! Luau Mix

Aloha! Last year, I won a stay at a house in Hawaii at the preschool auction. It was about to expire, so I packed Hank up, made some last minute calls to friends, and now we have a team of little boys running around in leis.

For those of you like, “WTF? Weren’t you just in Hawaii?” Good point, you guys. After we booked this trip, I got the call for the press trip, and I wasn’t about to say, “Meh. I’m already going to Hawaii” because I am not a stupid person. So I live here now. You should come over. Here’s what we’re listening to:

Hawaiian Punch! Luau Mix on Spotify
Hawaiian Punch! Luau Mix on Rdio

Tonight You Belong to Me, Eddie Vedder
Sweet Tooth, Kids on a Crime Spree
Lovin’ Spree, Ann-Margret
In the Water, Beat Connection
Yo Seria Otro, Davila 666
You and I, Ingrid Michealson
Mrs. Cold, Kings of Convenience
Rock-A-Hula Baby, Elvis Presley
Without You, Eddie Vedder
Don’t Worry Baby, Beach Boys
Calhoun Surf, Los Straitjackets
Room Without a Key, Rubies
Walk Don’t Run, The Ventures
Swimming, Breathe Owl Breathe
Fools Rush In, Bow Wow Wow
The Way We Ought to Be, Indigo Swing
Pipeline, Agent Orange
Goodnight Moon, Said the Whale
Forever, Pete Drake

Plans for this trip are less ambitious. Shaved ice, sandy bottoms, a new fruity drink every night, and taking turns keeping the boys from wounding each other.

What are you guys up to?